


his favorite sound

by slumberingapparition



Category: One Direction(band)
Genre: M/M, Writer!Niall, just 1k of a random idea, photographer!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:06:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6628489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slumberingapparition/pseuds/slumberingapparition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>“I love your writing,” Harry interrupted, and Niall gave him a large smile. “It's so rich, like I'm walking into story. Remind me why I haven't read your books yet.”</em><br/> <br/>  <em>Harry saw Niall glance at the photos he had scattered on the table. “Remind me why I haven't heard of your photo skills.”</em></p><p>or Harry is a wedding photographer and Niall is a writer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	his favorite sound

**Author's Note:**

> Quick little one shot that I had the idea for, hope you enjoy it!

His favorite sound in the world had always been the sound of a camera clicking, but then he met a blond man whose laugh brightened his mood every time he heard it. A horrible cliche in a coffee place in the middle of a city. The place was busier than usual, but it was Monday and people were struggling with hangovers and nine in the morning work shifts or neglected homework.

There was barely any tables to sit at(the place had more couches than tables on any day), with his laptop and camera and all, so he sat at the nearest one near a window. The man stared at his laptop, his fingers a mess on the keyboard. _A writer, maybe,_ he thought. _Or a student who lacked a required five page essay._

“Can I sit here?” he asked timidly; he didn't want to distract the obviously busy man. The man nodded, gesturing a hand to the black chair in front of him. He sat down, setting his own laptop out in front of the other man. _Thank God it's a big table._ He looked up, and saw the bluest pair of blue eyes his eyes have had the pleasure of seeing. Blue swirled with flecks of grey, and they were brighter than his own dull green ones. He wondered the man had been complimented on his eyes, so he decided not say anything about them.

“Are you a photographer?” the man asked, and he looked up to see those blue eyes again.

“Yeah, but just for weddings,” he said. “I'm Harry.”

“Niall,” the man—Niall—replied. _Unique name_ , Harry thought.

“Are you still in school?” Harry asked, nodding to the laptop and the large white binder he could see on the blond’s lap.

“Getting a master’s degree in English by the end of this year,” Niall replied, sighing while pointing to his laptop. “You look pretty young, and if you don't mind me asking, did you go to college?”

“Nah, and I'm twenty.” Harry shook his head, his curls bouncing around in a mess of brown surrounding his face. “I had a class for a year in Photography, and I didn't care much for any of my other classes, so I dropped out and started taking photos. Made a website, people went on the website, and here I am with a camera that's worth more than my life, I’m sure.”

That made Niall laugh, the blue disappearing as little crinkles surrounded the corners of his closed eyes. Harry couldn't help but stare; his laughter sounded _bright_. That moment, Harry quickly decided that that noise was beautiful and that he wanted to hear it over and over again.

“I'm sure that's not true,” Niall said. “Christ, I'm getting old, six years older than you.”

“That's not that old,” Harry assured. “Since you're twenty six, why are you now getting a master’s?”

“Dabbled a bit in writing after three years of school. I collaborated with a few authors, had my name on a few book covers and in the books,” Niall said, as if it meant nothing. “Made a few thousand or hundred grand—”

“Grand—?” Harry exclaimed. “You didn't just _dabble in writing_ , you sold books! If you had success, why would you put that on hold to get a degree? Seems kind of useless if you actually went somewhere without one.”

“I want to join a publishing company,” Niall answered. “A big name one, edit some manuscripts, and I need a good degree to get my name to them and not be rejected.”

“Looks like you've got life planned out,” Harry said, his tone laced with envy. “Editing and taking photos is fun, but it's not going to last forever.”

“My whole life? God no,” Niall said, amused. “My mom doesn't have grandchildren like she wants at this point, I'm not even interested in anyone, and she complains every time she walks into my house because they're three bedrooms and only one of me. Also, my friends who come by occasionally.”

“Can you read me some of your writing?” Harry asked abruptly. Niall raised a brow.

“That came out of nowhere,” Niall answered, taking a sip of his coffee. “I guess, if you want, I'll read you something from what I'm writing right now.”

“Thank you,” Harry said with a smile that Niall returns.

“ _Bright days, bright blue sky, the sun creeping past the horizon. The light shines through the barrier known as his polka-dotted curtains—atrocious-looking, he'd been told multiple times, but he couldn't let it go. He opens his eyes, blinking to adjust to the light change. His eyes sting with memory, as well as embarrassment, from the night before. He cried a waterfall last night, with his throat aching and his brain a pile of mush and thought._

“ _Memories from the night hit him like a punch in the face. Elizabeth, the ring,_ Elizabeth. _His skin is tainted with sweat, his breath smelling of vodka, liquor and mistakes, and his hair a shaggy chaos in front of his eyes. His sheets are a mess around his body, and he_ —”

“I love your writing,” Harry interrupted, and Niall gave him a large smile. “It's so rich, like I'm walking into story. Remind me why I haven't read your books yet.”

Harry saw Niall glance at the photos he had scattered on the table. “Remind me why I haven't heard of your photo skills.”

Harry felt a blush creep up his neck. “It's really just the camera’s skill,” Harry said, avoiding Niall's eyes. “Honestly, all I do is point the camera and the camera focused, and—”

“Yeah, but you edit the photos. You lay them out and create things for the newlyweds, and it looks incredible. The camera can't do everything that you do, Harry, put some pride in your work.”

Harry opened his mouth to respond—most likely with a stuttering ‘Thanks’—until his phone rang. Thankfully, it didn't draw attention to himself or distract anyone. He quickly picked it up after mouthing an apology to Niall.

“Oi!” a loud voice screamed into the speaker.

“What do you want, Louis?” Harry said, a bit angrier than intended. Well, he was a bit angry; he couldn't delved into a lengthy intellectual or artistic conversation(and he really didn't want that, he just wanted a reason to continue talking to Niall).

“Calm down,” Louis spoke. “Just reminding you that the Nelsons want their photos by the end of today, and they've already paid, so let's not keep them waiting for too long. Where are you, anyways? You're supposed to be helping me and Liam pick out apartments and furniture.”

“You guys can do it on your own, it's your apartment, anyways,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. The two always insisted getting Harry’s advice on every little thing(“We need your artistic perspective!” Louis cried out).

“We need—”

“My perspective, yeah, I'm well aware. I'm just a damn wedding photographer, you guys can do this. Expect, don't choose any apartment or furniture with yellow, and white on white on white makes the apartment, and you, look pretentious because it sets off a ‘look, I have clean floors and furniture and money!’ trigger. Avoid too many patterns or random little trinkets everywhere, it'll just make things look tacky instead of quirky. Now, I need to work on editing those photo sets, bye…”

Harry hung up, slipping his phone back into his pocket before looking back at Niall, who was smiling.

“Seems like you know a lot about apartments,” Niall teased.

“I know what's pleasing to the human eye and brain,” Harry said, typing a reminder on his laptop to finish editing.

“Well, I would assume you know a lot about what's pleasing to the human eye, assuming that you own a mirror.”

_Did he just—?_

Harry blushed, red returning to his neck and this time to his face. “I…”

“Yeah, I'm romantic, you don't have to tell me twice,” Niall said, a sly grin present on his face. “So, wasn't this a nice coffee date? I met you, we discussed what we’re passionate about, I read to you, what else is there? _Oh, yeah_ , a physical display of affection.”

“You're being very bold all of a sudden,” Harry shot back. “Where did this come from?”

“The moment I said yes to you sitting down at the table,” Niall said, and Harry frowned when he saw Niall begin to pack his laptop and papers.

“Where are you going?” Harry said, trying not to sound clingy already.

“Afternoon classes, it was great skipping my nine A.M. lecture with you, Harry the wedding photographer,” Niall said. “One more thing.”

Niall kissed him on the cheek, letting his lips linger for another second before pulling back. Harry felt his heartbeat thump against his eardrums, his palms growing sweaty.

“That was the physical display of affection, then?” Harry asked, and Niall replied with a laugh.

Yeah, Harry decided that was his favorite sound that day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! tumblr : findherinthekingdom


End file.
